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the
city now.”
    “ETA?”
    “With the way my cousin’s
driving, we’re either never going to make it, or we’re going to break the space-time
continuum and arrive there before it happens. You?”
    “We’re about to arrive at
the embassy. Once the President is secure, we’ll head to the crash site. I’ve
sent coordinates to your phone. Meet us there.”
    “Roger that.”
    Dawson ended the call and
Niner opened the message, bringing up the map. He held it on the dash so Ji-yeon
could see the display. “Can you get us to Noksapyeong Road?”
    Ji-yeon glanced at the
display a little too long for Niner’s liking, then nodded. “Sure.” She suddenly
locked up the brakes then spun the wheel hard, pulling a 180 before hammering
on the gas again, driving the wrong way for almost a hundred feet before
jumping a curb and forcing her way into the flow, a cloud of dust and scorched
pavement in her wake.
    Niner heard someone
screaming and glanced back at Jimmy.
    “You can stop screaming
now.”
    Niner looked at Ji-yeon and
realized the scream was coming from him. He jabbed a finger at her. “Next time,
I drive.”
    “You’d get lost.”
    “Yeah, but I wouldn’t
need to change my shorts.”
     
     

9

    Embassy
of the United States Seoul
32
Sejongno Street, Seoul, Republic of Korea
     
    Dawson
checked the hallway in either direction before closing the doors of the embassy’s
command center. It was nothing compared to the Operations Centers at the Unit
or Langley, though it was respectable nonetheless, what with their proximity to
one of the world’s few rogue nations with nuclear weapons. Embassy staff manned
every terminal, all, he was certain, highly trained in their jobs.
    “Mr. President, I’m happy
to see you’re safe.”
    Dawson surveyed the
displays as his second in command and best friend, Master Sergeant Mike “Red”
Belme, greeted their VIP.
    “Any word on my
daughter—and the others?”
    “Sir, this is what we
know.” Red turned and pointed at a large display showing aerial footage of the
crash scene. A fuel truck was fully involved, the two security vehicles that
had been escorting the automated bus barely recognizable. Fire crews were
steadily dousing the flames, a heavy police presence evident as the roads were blocked,
the crime scene taped off. “Both the leading and trailing escorts were involved
in a multi-vehicle accident with this fuel truck.”
    “That’s not the bus?”
    “No, sir.”
    Starling gasped a sigh of
relief, Dawson realizing for the first time that a terrified father’s mind
could have easily imagined a passenger bus instead of the flaming fuel truck.
Starling searched for a chair, an aide immediately pushing one toward him. He
dropped into it, his shoulders sagging for a moment. He stared up at Red. “Then
wh-where is it? Where’s the bus?”
     “There’s no sign of the
bus.”
    Starling opened his mouth
but Red continued.
    “For the moment, we’re
treating that as good news. At this point in time, we have no reason to believe
any harm has come to your daughter.”
    “But you don’t know where
they are?”
    “Not yet, sir. We’re
patching in with Langley now, and air and ground assets are deploying from Osan
Air Base to assist in the search.” Red paused, lowering his voice slightly, the
man himself a father. “Sir, this is a wired, modern city. They’ll have been
caught on camera. We’ll find them, track them, and retrieve your daughter.”
    “Has anyone made any
demands yet?”
    “No.”
    Dawson squatted so he
could look his President in the eyes, man-to-man. The fear and panic were
evident, and he needed this man, the leader of the free world, thinking
straight. “Mr. President, no word from whoever is responsible could be a good
thing. They won’t make their demands until they’ve secured the hostages. The
fact we haven’t heard anything means they haven’t done so yet. That means
there’s still time to find them.”
    Starling nodded,